One-shot
by baffledcarcajou1
Summary: Here's a series of one-shots. Hopefully you'll like them :) Rated T because I'm paranoid FEATURED: "Yours truly" Synopsis: He walked in, read the letter and began to cry.
1. Chapter 1

The whispers kept on terrorizing him.

_She doesn't love you_

_She wont come back_

_She betrayed you_

"Stop it! She will come back!" Vlad shouted, his voice filled with sobs. The pressure was getting too high.

_She never have loved you_

_No one ever have_

"Erin loves me!" he shouted, wanting to make the voice in his head stop. It didn't have a thought about doing that.

_You ain't good enough for her_

_You're so weak_

_Everyone thinks you're useless_

"Please stop!" he shouted, crying now. He knew that he wasn't good enough for her, and everyone had always been so disappointed in him. He knew the voice was right, but didn't want to face the truth.

_Even Robin didn't want you as a friend_

_He just wanted to be a vampire_

"That's not true!" he shouted, crying. His eyes burnt as teardrops of knowing strode down his cheeks, he believed everything the voice said.

_Everyone thinks you're a freak_

_Everyone you love, they don't love you back_

The sound of the voices finally got too high and Vlad curled himself into a ball.

He couldn't take it anymore; ever since Erin had left to visit her family, _**he **_had been terrorizing him.

He finally couldn't take it and let go. Let go of everything and _**he**_ pushed Vlad behind a wall in Vlad's mind. When Erin wasn't there with him, the voices got louder and the pressure increased.

He sat as if behind a window pane and watched as _**he**_ drained the majority of breathers in the school and wished Erin would've never left.

_**Sorry, I know it's not good. Weird too maybe. But I felt like writing some one-shots, so here's the first one of a possible 4. Enjoy if you like it, or something 3**_


	2. Chapter 2

_Hi everyone! This is just a short one that I wrote after seeing the first episode of season four (so damn happy!) and it starts just after Vlad had said 'because you stole my heart'. Here it goes:_

"Maybe you're dad's right. Maybe we shouldn't be together." Erin said, turning serious after Vlad's 'Because you stole my heart'. "You're not going to feel the same about me as you watch me get old."

Then she looked away, her expression troubled.

"Or maybe you should bite me." she then added and looked at Vlad again, straight in the amazing eyes of his, but then it was his time to look away.

"Don't be silly." Vlad said, his voice filled with abnegation and his forehead displaying a frown as he continued. "I wouldn't bite you, ever."

"But it's the only way we can stay together forever." Erin replied, appearing in his field of view again. Even though she didn't want to be a vampire, she wanted to be with Vlad.

Vlad sighed. He knew that in one way she was right, but in one way she was seriously wrong.

He sneaked his hand around her back so that he was holding her waist, loosely though. His frown disappeared and his mouth cracked into a smile.

"Don't you know that you're wrong?" he said to her, smiling at her acknowledge. "I'll love you no matter how you look."

Erin smirked. The sweetest vampire in the world had made her day again.

"I love you Vlad." she said and hugged him, and he gently pressed her head against his chest.

"I love you too Erin." he said and leaned his head on hers. He would want to be with her for all eternity. "_Loved you yesterday, love you still. Always have and always will." _he whispered into her ear and Erin pressed her nose into the small cavity between Vlad's collarbones.

What did you think? Review please :)


	3. Chapter 3

Silence. Silence and discomfort. That was what filled the air of Mrs McCauley's office in the late afternoon of the first day of October. The Count was looking into Alex's eyes in that way again that was so creepy, yet appealing, but the first one weighing out the other, and she fumbled with some papers on her desk. She cleared her throat to break the quiet integument covering the atmosphere.

"So, Mr Count," she began to utter, and her company seemed to have woken up from some kind of trance. "what do you think about putting up a play?"

Mr Count frowned at the suggestion; he had never liked those people who pretended to be something they weren't. They reminded him too much of that his son didn't want to be what he was, didn't want to be like his father. It hurt, it did, even to the Prince of Darkness. But of course he always said that the reason was that he thought that they were silly standing on a stage, repeating what someone had told them, or else they would maybe not think he was evil enough to fit his title.

"It's an idea to consider with carefulness, Mrs McCauley, as times are difficult." he said; putting up a play while having the ferals attending at the school would certainly make a mess.

Alex let go of the papers she was holding in her hands and crossed her arms.

"You're not considering this, not at all. I know you Mr Count; you're just trying to get out of the responsibility."

Count Dracula wanted to tell her that she was absolutely wrong for an instance, but reconsidered as she then, as investigating as she is to her manner, would ask why. He surely wanted to avoid that difficult situation where he would have to explain himself, so he just agreed.

"You're right." he said and put his chin in his hands. "What would you suggest if we _were_ to, let's say, put up a play?"

Mrs McCauley reached for her papers again.

"Well, I've come up with some suggestions." she said and looked down at her - even though she was a principal - frivolous handwriting. "Romeo and Juliet -"

"- out of question -"

"- Hamlet -"

"- never in my existence -"

"- or The hunting of the Snark."

"That's a poem, miss." Mr Count corrected and Mrs McCauley took a rubber and erazed it.

"Of course, how stupid of me."

For a while the two of them sat there; the principal looking like she was waiting for something, the owner alike.

"Aren't you going to pick one?" Mrs McCauley finally asked.

"That's all?" Mr Count said with a surprised expression; he'd expected more than two to chose from.

"Well, Dracula is suggested here, not by me though, and it would maybe be too hard to -"

"Perfect, Dracula it is!"

Then Mr Count rose from his seat, pulling the chair backwards in the movement, and then were about to walk out the door, but he stopped in the doorway.

"And be sure to give Vladimir the lead role." he said, satisfied; enthusiastic.

"But Mr Count -" Alex began, but the Count had already closed the door before she could continue.

If Vladimir wasn't worthy of the role, what would she do then? A discussion with the Count about why she didn't think his son had what it took would be something she'd be thankful if not necessary.

**Later on in the evening**


	4. Chapter 4

_Hi guys! Update fest! But this one-shot is in swedish, so if you can't speak swedish, then it's definitely not for you. Sorry..._

Ett sorl av röster fyller rummet. Det är fullt av besynnerliga varelser, dess jägare och vanliga människor som inte har någon aning om att deras sällskap är olikt dem på något sätt. Alla är klädda i det som enligt dem är finkläder; De Besynnerliga är antingen omfamnade av rött, grönt eller svart sammetstyg med en svart slängkappa gjord av läder eller polyester längs ryggen, människorna i kostymer eller knälånga klänningar av vanligt bomullstyg eller i samma material som de märkligas skrud. Nog tycker människorna att deras sällskap är underligt, men de ägnar inga längre stunder åt att fundera på det, eftersom de blir tilltalade av någon av de andra gästerna och får annat att tänka på.

I rummet finns glada, arga och missnöjda, goda, onda och ledsna individer, alla hopträngda i denna stora, avlånga sal. I rummet finns också en sårad och en fylld av ångest för Den Sårade. Den Ångestfyllde är en av De Besynnerliga, och Den Sårade är dess jägare. Ändå är det jägaren som blivit offret av jakten. Tillslut är det för mycket för den sårade att stå där i massan, tillslut kan hon inte ta det mer. Även fast alla känner olika inför det kommande så ligger det något förväntansfullt i luften och det plågar henne. Hur kan någon vara förväntansfull inför något som kommer krossa hennes hjärta i tusen och åter tusen spillror?

Hon letar sig fram genom den tillsynes ogenomträngliga hopen av olikheter, och får några glåpord kastade åt sitt håll när hon råkar stöta emot någons arm eller axel följt av hennes egen röst som kastar tillbaka ett vekt 'förlåt'. Luften är så tung att andas att hon blir trött mycket fort och måste stanna. Hon hoppas hinna ut i tid, men plötsligt tystnar alla i salen och hon förstår att det är försent.

Ett knarrande hörs då den stora ekporten i ena änden av salen långsamt öppnas. In stiger Häxan, som den sårade vill kalla henne, i en stor och pompös mörkröd klänning med krinolin. Den släpar en aning i det kalla stengolvet, men är ändå perfekt för dess bärare på alla sätt och vis. Det enda ljudet som hörs är hennes klackar i golvet när hon går och Den Sårade kan inte undgå att önska denna persons liv, denna persons rättigheter att få vara med Den Ångestfyllde. För Häxan är likt den ångestfyllde en av De Besynnerliga.

Hon fortsätter sin långsamma men stilfulla gång tvärs över salen där Den Ångestfyllde står. Den sårade vet inte att han är motvillig, att Den Ångestfyllde inte egentligen vill göra detta, och ser då honom stå där med ett leende. Men leendet är egentligen tillkämpat med all viljestyrkan han har för att dölja sorgen inom honom. Och det verkar funka, för alla tror ju att han står där, iklädd i sin formella klädsel, med lycka inom honom. Men det är så långt ifrån sanningen man kan komma, nära inpå ren och skär lögn.

Att Häxan är vacker, det kan ingen förneka, inte ens Den Sårade, och inte ens Den Ångestfyllde. Men det är Den Sårade han vill ha, Den Sårade han _behöver_ för att inte sjunka in i en period av mörker som han har gjort förut. Det är Den Sårade som han älskar, Den Sårade som får honom att känna sig mänsklig. Framförallt är hon den enda som förstår honom. Men det är Häxan som han måste binda sig med för att det inte ska utbryta ett krig där många liv kommer att förloras. Så han tänker att han kan offra sitt eget liv istället.

Nu står hon där, bredvid Den Ångestfyllde, och en av De Besynnerliga iklädd en mörkgrön skrud står framför dem. Han yttrar orden som binder samman Häxan och Den Ångestfyllde, det är han som yttrar orden som krossar Den Sårades hjärta. Den Sårade fäller en enstaka tår som hon genast sveper bort med sin hand. Hon vill inte visa sig vek.

Det är över på några minuter, fast det känns som timmar för Den Sårade, och så fort den stora ekporten öppnas för att släppa ut gästerna, så springer hon ut. Springer så fort hon någonsin har sprungit i hela sitt liv och hon tänker inte stanna. Hon hör inte sitt namn ropas efter henne, till hennes besvikelse. Men vem skulle sakna henne? Ingen av de vanliga människorna vet vem hon är, bara De Besynnerliga och dess jägare, och de vet varför hon springer och tänker inte stoppa henne.

Hon har ingen aning om vart hon ska ta vägen; hennes förflutna är förintat till sista lilla uns, och hon har inte längre sin bror, Den Förrädande. Men hon vet att hon inte kan stanna, hon måste bort från alltihop, för att inte tyna bort helt i allt elände, i all sorg.


	5. Chapter 5

_Hi! Sorry for not updating (not just this fanfic, but the others alike) for very long. Had kind of a writers block. But I hope it's over now, and I hope that I will be updating more often._

_I wrote this one-shot after... well, the idea just popped into my mind really._

Synopsis: She still loved him, she didn't want to, but she did. And now she'd told the truth, to the one that silently loved her. And she had destroyed him by the end of the meaning.

She had made a mistake, such a terrible mistake. She'd let the words slip, the words that were the thoughts that had been circulating in her mind since she'd left. It was forbidden, it was wounding and it was wrong. But she'd let the three words out, let them stroke her lips in an impulsive way, she hadn't thought before she acted. That was the way now, wasn't it? Acting as though no consequences existed. Leaving the one you love behind, for the one that do not express feelings, only hatred and an urge for power.

She had thought it was great at first to leave, that it was the perfect revenge. She wanted him to suffer, for what he'd done to her, to be a wreck. But she realised that what she'd done flashed back on herself, leaving her in a state that was guilt and longing, self-hatred and sorrow. Everything had gone wrong, because of the feelings that she still kept, locked in a safe, far back in her mind.

She had tried to reason with herself, tried to get those emotions away. Tried to eliminate them, for all eternity. Those like her should not even have been knowing how it felt in the first place, not have experienced it. It should've vanished when her heart turned to stone, and her breaths were not needed, but it hadn't – it had not even faded, it was stronger than ever. It was impossible to ignore.

That was why she had done it, it had been too much, too overwhelming. Flooded all her senses, drowned all her sense. It had been a fight, a sword-battle of sharp words. He had been battling with the fiercest of weapons, and she had not fought much at all. She had almost surrendered, when he told the words that were so strong that she couldn't hold it in anymore. She had hurt him deeply, she could see it in his eyes. He did love her, despite the way he treated her, she could see that now. If only she felt the same, then she hadn't been slicing his unbeating heart in smithereens. But she had said it.

"I want _him"_

_What did you think about this? There are maybe something wrong about the grammar here and there, but I am bad at grammar... just accept it. Though, still, I am a grammar-freak, and how those two facts fit together is unknown by any creature._

_Please review, and thanks for reading xx_


	6. Chapter 6

_Hi and hello! Wrote this little one-shot, it's not very good, but I wanted to post it anyway :)_

In the Dracula castle there lived a boy, the hair night black and his eyes dark brown. An outcast he was, and he lived alone with no one to talk to, no one to know. His days he spent laughing and talking. Quite joyfilled you could call him. But as said; he wasn't talking to someone.

In the Dracula castle there lived a boy, the hair night black and his eyes bright blue. An outcast he was, and he lived alone with no one to talk to, no one to know. His days he spent laughing and talking. Quite joy filled you could call him. But as said; he wasn't talking to someone.

In the Dracula castle there lived two boys, one who lived, one who was dead. And outcasts they were, and they lived alone with no one else to talk to, no one to know. Their days they spent laughing and talking. Quite joyfilled you could call them. But shhh; it's a secret.

_What dy'a think? Please review and tell me! :)_


	7. Chapter 7

_Hello hello! Wrote this as it just came to mind. Though it was briefly inspired by the title "3 words 8 letters and I'm yours". Here it is (short, but in my bragging and can-never-judge-if-own-work-is-good-or-not opinion, quite good):_

Suddenly the door burst open and in stepped a furios-looking Erin, showing teeth and breathing heavily. Only Vlad was there.

"Say it!" she screamed, "Say it!"

Vlad walked over to her, though keeping a bit of distance.

"Say what Erin?" he asked.

Then came an answer he hadn't expected.

"Say that you hate me!" she shrieked, a crimson red briefly flashing her eyes. "**Say it**!"

He was confused, his mind swirling with thoughts. Why had she come?

"For devil's sake" she was shaking now and she reached out and pushed him, "**SAY IT!"**

Then he saw it, the tears forming in the edge of her eye, the lips of hers struggling against it though still forming a sob. It escaped her mouth and she looked at Vlad, hunched over, though still anger showed. "SAY IT!"

He took a step and hugged her, "I love you."

Erin leaned down her head at his neck and Vlad felt tears dripping onto his skin.

"He left" she said through the sobs, "And said he hated me. You never said that."

She never put her arms around him, but he kept his around her, the sobbing at his neck he let be. "And I never will."

_What d'ya think? Was it good or was it bad? Reviews will be appreciated... so please review, hehe?_

_xx_


	8. Chapter 8

_Hello! I've been writing again... :_

"See you around, Vlad."

"Yeah."

He closed the door as Jonno went out. They had been discussing the treaty again, always was there something that postponed the deal between the two parties. The Chosen One wanted no more than for it to get done, but it was as if the slayers didn't want the same thing.

Now there was only one way to make his day better; spend some time with Erin.

Vlad walked through the corridor to get to her room, but was surprised at what he saw when he opened the door. It was empty. The candles weren't lit and all of Erin's possessions were gone. Except the coffin, which was originally the Dracula's.

He walked over to it and met his eyes did a yellow post-it note. Vlad picked it up and read.

_It's not me Vlad, and it's not you. It's both of us. A vampire and a slayer? It would never have worked, and it was doomed from the beginning. I love you Vlad, I truly do, and I cry as I write this. I don't want this to end with a big fight, or one of us dying, I want it to end when we're happy. Don't come and look for me, I don't want to be found. "Love is but a fickle thing", though I know ours would've lasted forever. But I wont last forever, either I would've died in one of your dark times, or in a battle._

_I do love you though_

_**Yours truly, Erin xx**_

And the biggest, baddest vampire in the world began to cry.

_Opinions: appreciated. Please review? xx_


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